


A Sorry Won't Cut It.

by gayblockz (lizandre)



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: And mostly gets over his trauma, Angst, BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD, Because That is What He Deserves, Blood, Dream gets his shit rocked, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Non Permanent Death, Mild emotional manipulation, Non-Human Dream, Protective Brother Technoblade, Slight Body Horror question mark, Technoblade and Tommyinnit are brothers, The Voices, Tommy gets some self care, Trauma, Well he's getting there okay, tagging it just in case although im not sure if it counts, violence but not too graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandre/pseuds/gayblockz
Summary: Dream scoffed, grabbing his own weapon with both hands and taking a combat ready position.Techno extended his arm to shield Tommy. He was the only thing standing between the defenseless kid and the poisonous green hood across the snow.“Hand him over,” Dream’s previously soft tone was now gone, replaced by arrogance and threat.***AKA Technoblade protects his little brother and Dream gets what he deserves.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 745





	A Sorry Won't Cut It.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before the 28.12.2020 stream, but seeing as we still didn't see Dream's ass get beat into oblivion, I thought we could have this. As a treat.
> 
> The working title for this was "minecraft but i get my brains blungered by the kid i abused".

Technoblade never knew a simple afternoon trip to get some wood could become so exhausting just by Tommy being there. The gremlin managed to fall into three lakes, get stuck on an insanely tall tree, and almost walked into lava by accident. Techno found out about all of those incidents by hearing his name screeched through the woods, sighing before coming over to help his brother not kill himself accidentally.

It was when he stopped hearing Tommy when he began getting concerned.

He pushed the concern to the back of his mind, finishing chopping a tree and looking back at the patchy deforested snow he left behind himself. The sunset beautifully reflected in the pale blanket on the ground, the fiery reds and oranges serving as a reminder of the dangers that will come with the night. Techno must have enough wood by now, he reasoned, certainly not as an excuse to go and find his annoying ally.

“Tommy!” he yelled into the void of the snowy forest. “I’ve got the wood I need, I think we’ll start heading back!”

A few seconds pass. No response.

He sighed. Tommy, for once, was asked to speak, and that’s when he decides to shut up. The leftover silence was filled up by other voices.

_Where is he? It isn’t like him to go quiet._

_Did the annoying runt finally die off? Thank god._

_He can handle himself fine, just go home alone._

The voices were as helpful as usual, which is to say they were actively preventing Technoblade from concentrating and making a decision. He hated to be guided by worry, but at that moment it was the only thing in his mind that was capable of making him lift his foot and start walking.

“Tommy!” he called out again. “Come on, where are you?”

Ducking under the greenery, brushing snow from his shoulders, trying to get a lead out of the stumps and broken branches left by an axe other than his.

He scanned the landscape, tugging on his cape for more warmth, and finally spotted a piece of bright red in the woods, immediately heading in that direction, when he noticed—

He froze.

The shade of green which stood next to Tommy made his stomach turn inside out, it was unnatural, toxic, overwhelmingly bright. The carved out smile was mocking, piercing anyone it looked at with an overbearing gaze.

“Dream,” Techno breathed out, his voice less confident than he would’ve liked.

The two looked up as if he just interrupted a tense conversation, Dream’s eyes shooting daggers at him through his mask, while Tommy’s stare was filled with fear and… tears?

“Technoblade,” the hooded man nodded. He was standing closer to the kid than Techno would’ve liked. “I’m just here to take Tommy home.”

His voice was sickeningly soft, like a pillow which is about to smother you.

“Well,” Techno glanced from his brother to the man standing next to him. His protective instincts were kicking in. “Seeing as his home is with _me_ , I can take him there _myself_.”

Dream was taken aback by the sharpness even Technoblade didn’t know he had. It took him a second to recompose himself.

“I think the house he squatted in for a few days hardly counts as his _home_.”

“And the blown up leftovers of a tent do?”

It was a terrible idea to talk back to Dream with such venom, but he couldn’t help himself. He was caught off guard, and his emotions were the only thing governing him right now.

Dream’s anger was beginning to build up, and he gripped his axe handle in frustration, but before things could escalate, Techno jumped in:

“Tommy, tell us yourself, where do you wanna go?”

The boy almost jumped in surprise at the mention of his name. His wide eyes darted, like an animal cornered by two predators. He first looked to Dream, who put on his best reassuring smile, with an obvious implicit threat hiding behind it. Just the sight of it knocked the air out of Tommy’s lungs, his whole body aching in anticipation of the punishment for disobedience. He felt his breath hitch, and his eyes scurried to look away, turning to Techno, expecting another shark to start circling him, another set of orders and expectations hovering over him, and if he messes up—

Tommy blinked in perplexity.

Techno’s expression was neutral. It wasn’t that different from the way his face looked like normally – the corners of his eyes were, perhaps, slightly softer, and his jaw was more tense, but it didn’t show any bribery, no demand for compliance, no consideration of a penalty. The man only nodded, as a gesture of encouragement to make the choice. He asked a genuine question, and he wasn’t planning on tempering with the answer. Was he really granting Tommy free will?

No.

_He never took it in the first place._

“Come on, Tommy,” Dream’s impatient voice interrupted his thought process. The calm tone was beginning to strain. “Do you want to stay with him, or _come back with me?_ ”

Tommy tried to still his trembling hands, still staring at Technoblade’s face. It was grounding, helping him think more clearly. There was no pressure coming from that face, unlike the one hovering beside him.

He took a deep breath, gathering all his courage in order to push out a weak:

“…Stay.”

That was all Techno needed. In a matter of seconds, the snowy forest patch exploded with motion. Dream pulled out his axe in rage, trying to grab Tommy by the wrist while swinging at the moving silhouette of a red cape, but the blood god was quicker. He yanked the kid back, evading the both the weapon and the hands of a furious deity. Tommy stumbled in the snow, hiding behind his brother, and Techno could feel the ice cold fingers dig into his cloak, holding on for support.

The axe, blinded by rage, was about to make a second swing, but the wielder quickly caught himself. Dream lowered both his hands, recomposing, adjusting his mask and fixing his posture. He switched his weapon from hand to hand, assessing the situation.

“I take it you’re not going to go down without a fight?” he cocked his head, staring at the two brothers from above.

“Correct,” the voices roaring in the back of Technoblade’s mind were getting hard to ignore, but he had to hold them back for a bit more.

_Chop his head off with his own axe! That would be funny!_

_Just slice him up already, this is getting boring._

_He tried to hurt Tommy, obliterate him._

“Are you sure?” Dream cooed mockingly. “I would be a monster if I didn’t let you reconsider before making silly mistakes.”

_That’s it, kill him._

_It’s been a while since you committed some nice old fashioned violence._

_BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!_

“I wouldn’t say I’m making any mistakes right now,” the axe that was chopping down trees not five minutes ago was now ready to get stuck between a pair of ribs. It may not have been the Axe of Peace, but peace wasn’t really in Technoblade’s intentions either.

Dream scoffed, grabbing his own weapon with both hands and taking a combat ready position.

Techno extended his arm to shield Tommy. He was the only thing standing between the defenseless kid and the poisonous green hood across the snow.

“Hand him over,” Dream’s previously soft tone was now gone, replaced by arrogance and threat.

There was no response, Technoblade only ushered his brother further behind himself and locked eyes with his opponent. One of them is not coming out of this alive, that he knew for sure. The voices liked that perspective.

_BLOOD._

_BLOOD._

_BLOOD._

They chanted in unison, like a battle cry, and that only gave Techno more confidence. He moved forward but held out on attacking: he didn’t want Dream to get closer to Tommy, but he wouldn’t give his enemy the advantage of striking second either. He was happy to stall, maybe even if this dragged out long enough, Tommy would come to his senses and run away. He doubted that, though, neither of his brothers were known for particularly good self-preservation instincts.

Dream noticed his opponent slowly approaching, and quickly figured out Techno’s plan. He countered it by bringing down the first swing of the fight: he wasn’t about to get backed into retreating away from his goal. The axe got blocked by a timely brought up shield – he’s always prepared, huh? – and Dream yet again admired his opponent’s intellectual capacity. If Technoblade dodged, Dream would’ve instantly ran to grab Tommy and get out of there, both of them perfectly understood that. It has been a while since battling with such an understanding of each other’s intentions, it was honestly refreshing.

Techno’s strike aimed straight for the hooded head, which he dodged with ease, but the blood god wasn’t going to let him go that easy. He altered the trajectory of his strike mid-air, hitting the shin, decorating the green cloth with crimson. Dream yelped and jumped back, avoiding his leg being chopped off, but the blow still disoriented him for a few seconds, which allowed Techno to get in another hit, which was sloppily blocked, leaving Dream with another bleeding wound on his shoulder. Droplets of red landed on the snow.

_GET HIM!_

_Not enough. You’re going easy on him._

_More. More blood. Not satisfied. More blood._

Dream recovered quicker than anticipated, and the next swing came from the right. Technoblade’s shield went up, and it was too late when he realized the strike was aimed lower. A splash of pain hit his side, the axe ripping a part of his cape and painting his shirt a deep shade of scarlet.

_You’re not even trying._

_You’re supposed to be making him bleed, not the other way around._

_This is pathetic._

Dream ducked under Techno’s next attack, dodging his axe and trying to maneuver past him. His biggest advantage in this fight was that his success didn’t depend on him winning, unlike his opponent’s, and he was going to exploit that to its maximum. A mad dash and a leap kept him from Tommy, who was sitting right there, pressed into a tree, looking onto the fight, petrified. All he had to do was reach out and escape.

Like hell Techno was going to let that happen.

He threw his shield aside, and with free hand grabbed the bastard, spinning round and flinging him full force across the bloodied battlefield.

Dream hit a spruce with a loud crunch, followed by a groan which grew into an angered scream. Techno’s eyes darted to his shield, tucked into the snow meters away, but as soon as his mind commanded him to grab it he could hear the footsteps running at him with full force.

Shit.

There was no time.

Technoblade turned to Dream and, in the last moments, blocked with the only thing he had. The two axes collided, and, unsurprisingly, the weapon turned out to be a pretty bad shield. It flew into the air and landed with a loud thud right at Tommy’s feet, much to his terror.

Dream took no time and dodged Techno, shoving him into the snow, running straight for the kid. Mid-fall, Technoblade instinctively grabbed at his opponent, sending them both face-first into the snow. Quickly, while his enemy was still disoriented, he shoved away the axe, going straight for fist fighting. Dream let out another furious roar, turning round and swinging with full force as well.

In the brawl, all Techno could hear was his adrenaline pumping through his veins and the equally aggravating voices, egging him on.

_Go for his gut._

_Rip his throat out._

_Use your elbows._

Regardless of how useful (or useless) the advice was, Technoblade listened to none of it, punching, clawing and tearing at random. He could feel his hair getting pulled, his chest getting hit, his face getting scratched, but nothing they did to each other could separate them. They were like two cats in an alleyway, locked in a deadly match for each others’ lives.

He knew it was coming to an end when he felt a foot coming up to his chest, and in a last desperate attempt he grabbed at anything tangible in front of his hands and held on as he was sent flying off of his opponent.

He realized too late that what he decided to hold onto was the mask, as it tore off its owner and landed into the snow between them.

The forest was disturbed by a feral cry as Dream scurried to his feet, covering his face in a panic, almost trembling – with fear? Adrenaline? Rage?

His fists contracted and slowly, tensely, he lowered his arms to his sides, revealing a—

_What?_

_What._

_What…_

In the place where his face was supposed to be was a dripping, dark emptiness, filled by tens – hundreds? – of eyes, filling up his entire hood and descending lower into his clothes. They were different sizes, blinked at different times, some weren’t even looking in the same direction at all, but all of them were that same unnatural green Dream wore at all times. Techno drifted his gaze to the man’s –creature’s? – gloved hands, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they were just eyes too.

From the dark void of irises, an opening akin to a mouth snarled its teeth at Technoblade.

“Now, that wasn’t very polite of you,” Dream hissed.

He snatched his mask from the ground in front of him, but hesitating before putting it back on.

“Didn’t anybody teach you that staring is rude?” he sneered, watching Techno’s shocked expression.

“Wh— what—” the voice of the fearless warrior came out choked.

“Silence!” Dream slammed his foot on the undoubtedly bruised chest in front of him, once again showing his teeth in a scowl. He was seriously pissed. “You have your _voices_ , Mister Blood God, and I have my _eyes_.”

Technoblade’s mouth gaped, either in surprise or in a plea for breath.

_He **knows?**_

_You **told him about us?**_

**_When?_ **

He had even less answers to those questions, which must’ve been written all over his face, because Dream snickered.

“Of course I know about your voices,” he casually picked up his axe, dusting off the snow. “And what I also know, Technoblade, is that your voices _lie_. My eyes don’t.”

On the last sentence all of the eyes suddenly focused on Techno, which made his heart sink. The immense panic of being watched overcame him.

“And what my eyes see right now,” Dream took his foot away from the man below him, taking a step back. Somehow the action was the opposite of reassuring. “Is a _liar_ who did not keep his word.”

He put his mask on, adjusting it so that his mouth and some of his lower eyes were visible.

“And my eyes do not like the sight _at all_.”

Technoblade barely dodged the axe that came flying into the tree behind him. He scurried to his feet, only to feel a sharp kick to his back, making his ribs ache, accompanied by even sharper laughter. He saved himself from more snow in his mouth by putting out his hands and flipping over, watching as his opponent took the axe out of the wood, and turned to him with a sadistic slowness to his movements.

Dream’s wicked smile showed his glistening teeth, as white as the snow. The skewed mask showed the adrenaline pumped toxic-green eyes as the man raised his weapon, about to finish the one who dared disobey him with a finishing blow. Techno brought his arm up to try and shield himself, but he knew it wouldn’t save him from the axe strike that was about to come down on him. He gritted his teeth in preparation, his whole body tense as he braced himself for—

_Crunch._

The entire world stained red for a split second, but, to Techno’s surprise, he didn’t feel any pain.

Dream let out a choked breath with the sound of his knees slamming to floor, along with his axe dropping into the snow, the only blood on the blade was speckles of crimson on its base. It never got to make its strike.

The scene lingered before dispersing into millions of bright green fragments, long enough for the image to be immortalized into Technoblade’s mind: Dream, legs collapsed on the floor, sitting with a gaping mouth, and an even more gaping headwound, a bloodied axe sprouting out. Red streaming down his “face”, streaks of blood coming down his wide eyes as if he was weeping. His hands were trembling, almost convulsing, and his mouth twitching as if he was about to scream but couldn’t get the sound out. As his body melted away, the axe clattered and fell onto the ground, singing a victory ballad in the form of a high pitched ring, indistinguishable from the ring in Techno’s ears.

He raised his gaze from the axe, to meet eyes with the wielder. Tommy stood, shocked by his own actions. His face, his clothes, his hands – they were all splattered with Dream’s blood, something he won’t be able to wash away for a long time, for better or worse. Tears leaked onto the bruised cheeks, mixing with the evidence of Tommy’s blasphemy.

“I killed him,” he whispered, trembling. “I killed my friend Dream.”

He led his shaking hands to hug his own shoulders, almost collapsing in on himself.

“I killed my friend Dream!” this one sounded more choked out, but right after a smile split his face.

“I killed! I killed Dream! I killed— I killed my friend. I killed… my friend,” every word Tommy was saying sounded like a different emotion, as if he was battling himself, unsure which of his thoughts to believe.

“He’s not my friend,” he suddenly violently shook his head, as if trying to get rid of a persistent hand gripping his mind.

“But he is,” he pleaded, flipping his feelings again. “He did so much for me.”

“He tried to kill Technoblade!”

“Technoblade isn’t my friend! Dream is! Technoblade blew up L’Manburg! He destroyed my home!”

“So did Dream!”

Tommy’s blabbering turned into sobs as he couldn’t take his mind anymore. Neither side seemed rational or irrational, all his thoughts just mixed into a bloody soup in his mind and poured out through his eyes.

Technoblade’s mind cleared at the sight of Tommy going quieter, the voices splitting between bloodlust and a desire to help the younger boy, and Techno scrambled to his feet and carefully approached the crying mess in the snow.

“Tommy?”

No response.

“Tommy.”

Tommy flinched at gentle touch of his brother, his eyes shotting up and staring at the man like a kicked puppy.

“Tommy, are you okay?” Techno spoke as softly as he possibly took, delicately pulling the kid into a hug.

He doesn’t respond verbally, instead reciprocating the embrace, tugging at the red cape, pulling it around himself, hiding from the world. He isn’t denied the privilege of obscurity.

The sun is long set before any of the brothers disrupt their comforting silence.

“There’s blood on my hands,” Tommy states, as if it’s a casual observation. Techno knows there’s much more hiding behind those words.

“Well, that makes two of us,” he lets out a tired smile, trying to lighten the mood, but it only makes the atmosphere more blue, hopeless, exhausted.

“Let’s go,” Technoblade helps the kid stand up and leads him in the direction of the house, sighing at the trembling that visibly fills the fragile body. Techno knows that feeling, better than anyone, probably.

The walk is silent, interrupted only by an occasional hiccup from the youngest. The voices are a chorus of discord, all trying to discuss different topics. Some keep blabbering on about Dream and his… form, others whine about their unclenched bloodthirst, an especially loud ensemble keeps worrying about Tommy. Overall, the voices are unintelligible and unhelpful, as usual.

The two boys enter their house, hiding away from the freezing breeze of the arctic night. Here, under the bright light of the torches, Techno can examine his brother further. He seems to not be physically injured, just highly distressed. His face is covered in a mix of his tears, blood, and melted snow. Techno gently wipes some dirt off with his hand. Tommy doesn’t protest.

“You’ll need to clean yourself up. You can borrow some of my clothes.”

“ _No_ ,” Tommy replies, too sharp not to make his older brother stop and look with perplexity. 

“Sorry, I just—” he quickly amends, looking down at his feet. “I don’t wanna be like you.”

The sentence is said almost inaudibly, but it crashes like a million blows in Techno’s head. The hurt is tangible.

“It’s okay,” he pushes out. “Just clean off the blood.”

He gestures towards the washroom, showing the kid where the soap and towels are, if he needs them. Techno notices the blood that smudges on the door handle as Tommy turns it. He doesn’t say anything.

Just before closing the door, Tommy freezes.

“I… I murdered Dream,” he says, as if still only half believing his words. “Do you think he can forgive me?”

“I don’t think a sorry will cut it,” Techno admits.

“You don’t?” Tommy’s head immediately snaps up, panic filled eyes looking to his brother for reassurance, some kind of grip on reality.

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing,” the man slowly clarifies. “After what you did, Dream’s probably terrified of you. Intimidated, certainly.”

“Dream… intimidated. By me?” he speaks with fascination, as if in a trance. In that same trance he enters the bathroom, leaving Technoblade alone.

But Technoblade is never truly alone.

_He doesn’t want to be like you._

_He hates you._

_You were ready to lose your life for him and he thinks you’re a monster._

Techno tries not to listen to the voices. With the amount of times they say nonsense or blatantly lie, it’s easy to convince oneself what they’re saying is not true, even if they’re clearly right.

When Tommy emerged from the bathroom, he was different. He was cleaner now, and he was smiling, and it seemed genuine, yet a little off. His eyes locked with Technoblade’s and his grin widened, showing his teeth.

“I killed Dream,” he said, almost proudly. “And I don’t think I’m sorry.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I am so mean to Dream I feel the need to put /rp at the end of a fanfic.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please leave kudos if you enjoyed, comments are greately motivating, don't feel pressured though <3


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